


Hallelujah

by lavellanpls



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon Bisexual Character, Canon Lesbian Character, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Romance, Snapshots, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-08-31 18:59:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8589955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavellanpls/pseuds/lavellanpls
Summary: Vignette-style snapshots of endgame Sera & Lavellan.
Lavellan was another bad elf, another broken person, only when Sera looked at her she didn’t see anything wrong or broken at all. And maybe if nothing was wrong with her then Sera wasn’t wrong, either. Maybe they were just what they were supposed to be. Maybe they were perfect.
Maybe they could finally be perfect together.





	

**Author's Note:**

> _"Maybe there's a God above_   
>  _And all I ever learned from love_   
>  _Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you_   
>  _It's not a cry you can hear at night_   
>  _It's not somebody who's seen the light_   
>  _It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah"_

**i.** _a secret chord._

Sera wasn’t even gonna do it at first.

Of course she _liked_ Inky—they were friends. _Best_ friends. Or at least good ones, right? They ate awful cookies and talked trash and rambled about stupid shite like it was actually something _important,_ like _they_ were something important, and… That meant something, didn’t it?

…didn’t it?

_Solarse_ had left. For good. Just went and fucked off into the night without a word, and as far as Sera knew, was never coming back. She hoped he died out there. Wherever he went. She hoped Inky never had to see his stupid face again. She hoped he got eaten by wolves.

Lilith took up with Commander Jackboot after. Which didn’t really surprise her. Cullen had been waiting in the wings for that relationship to break for, _frig,_ ages probably. It gave Sera a big ol’ laugh when she saw him kiss her in the hall. She didn’t have a problem with Cullen—not like she had with _Solas_ —and she guessed he had nice hair, but. Still. She knew that wouldn’t go anywhere. And surprise, surprise—it didn’t. That fling was over as quick as it started, and a gross, selfish part of her was right _gleeful_ about it. Cullen was alright but not for Inky. None of them had been right for Inky.

Sera…wasn’t really sure if anyone was.

She knew _she_ wasn’t.

Not that that’d ever been a question, or anything. She wasn’t even gonna do it. Of course she’d never do it. They were _friends,_ and Lilith had others, and they were good just as they were. Sera didn’t need to go and screw that up. Of course she liked her, but they were friends. Friends like their friends. She’d never actually…of course she didn’t feel _more_ than that. They were friends. She was her friend. She didn’t…

Sera couldn’t love her like that.

Lilith could never love her like that.

* * *

 

**ii.** _don’t really care for music._

Nothing had changed. Not really. Not between _them._ Inky hadn’t changed—she still laughed that same loud laugh that carried across the yard when she and Sera were splitting wine atop the roof outside her window. They still talked about nothing, and it still felt like everything. They were still _friends_. Only now Sera had…thoughts. Stupid, ugly thoughts. Things you weren’t supposed to think about your friends. Things that’d ruin a friendship. That’d ruin her.

It was just…weird, was all. Inky was great but she wasn’t supposed to feel like this. Maybe it was stupid, but…Sera had never been into _elves_ before. Not on purpose, or anything. Elves were okay, she guessed, but she’d met an awful lot of them, and this was…

This was…

This was different, though. Lavellan was another bad elf, another broken person, only when Sera looked at her she didn’t see anything wrong or broken at all. And maybe if nothing was wrong with Lilith then Sera wasn’t wrong, either. Maybe they were just what they were supposed to be. Maybe they were perfect.

Maybe they could finally be perfect together.

Sera remembered one of their conversations from way-back. When Skyhold was new and Sera was still furious and scared. She’d gone off on how much she hated stupid elfy-elves, and remembered expecting Lilith to yell at her about it. A lot of other elves had yelled at her about it. She didn’t, though. This dumb forest-y elf with dumb elfy tattoos who rolled in fresh from some dumb, snobby _clan,_ and she just sort of laughed. Not one of those mean laughs, though—like the ones from people who liked to make fun of her, who saw her living with humans in her fancy city-house, who laughed when she couldn’t pronounce words like _arlathan_ and _vhenadahl_ the same way they could because her stupid mouth was too stumble-y. Elven was supposed to sound pretty. Flowy, like poetry. Sera could never sound like poetry.

She remembered Lilith laughed like Sera had just told some funny inside joke. “You really want to piss off an elf?” she asked. “Try wearing boots.”

Sera caught herself off guard when a laugh erupted from her throat. “Right, aren’t you supposed to be running around barefoot? I mean, isn’t that what good elves do?”

“Boots are better for kicking,” she supplied. “Also they look _fabulous_ on me.”

Sera snickered, but her smile crept slowly wider. “Whatever you say, elfy.”

She was right. They did look kind of fabulous.

Lilith laughed that too-loud laugh that carried across the yard, and Sera fought a wave of stupid, selfish thoughts.

She could never love her like that.

* * *

 

**iii.** _the minor fall._

She was gonna do it.

She didn’t know why she was so frigging nervous. They were close. They were _good. Lilith_ was good. And…she liked her, maybe. Which should have been _great_. And it was, sort of, but then it sort of wasn’t. Sera hadn’t felt nervous like this in- Er. Ever, maybe. It wasn’t like this’d be her first go-round, but…

But what if Lavellan changed her mind? What if she saw Sera naked or sleeping or ugly and decided she didn’t want this after all, didn’t want her? What if she realized being funny and clever and liking the same drinks wasn’t enough to keep her interested?

What if Sera couldn’t compare to _him?_

Ugh, so _stupid_.

There were…other things, too. More stupid things. It wasn’t like it mattered or anything, but well… Sera had never been into ladies like that before. Ones who liked both. Or prolly had, she guessed, but she’d never _dated_ one. Not in a serious way. Not like…an I-wanna-marry-you kind of way. Not that she cared about that—Sera didn’t give two shits who people fancied. But…but what if Inky only liked a certain kind of girl, and Sera wasn’t that girl? What if she only fancied girls for kissing and fun-stuff but didn’t want to marry one? What if-

Stupid, stupid, _stupid_.

Why’d Sera always have to be so _stupid?_

It took too long for her to realize she’d thought about marriage, and that felt stupid too. Everything was always so frigging _stupid_.

They were sitting on the roof with another stolen bottle of another too-fancy wine when Sera did the stupidest thing she’d ever done.

She leaned in and kissed her. Briefly and spontaneously. A quick and awkward peck on the lips that left her heart hammering and her knees kind of wobbly. She jerked back with reddening cheeks and an internal curse. “Sorry. That was daft. I don’t know why I-”

Lilith cut her off when she surged forward, held Sera’s face in both hands, and sealed her lips against hers in a sweet, happy kiss.

She laughed when she pulled back, and that sounded…nice. “Well,” she said, and the flush of her cheeks only made her golden eyes shine brighter. “Aren’t _we_ a few years late to the party.” She clasped her mouth and laughed, a full and happy sound. “Where were you two years ago?”

Sera snorted on a laugh that came too quick, too loud. “Off being stupid, I guess.”

* * *

 

**iv.** _the major lift._

She didn’t think she’d do it.

Yeah, so Inky would spout some loony shite about _love_ every now and then, but she was still this…big, important someone, off being in charge of important somethings. She was their grand Inquisitor, right? She was important. And Sera just wasn’t. She wasn’t _mad_ about it, it was just…a thing. One of those parts of life that couldn’t change.

They were in the main hall, talking about some dumb story she couldn’t remember. The door leading to the war room creaked open, followed by Josephine’s polite voice: “Inquisitor? You are needed in the war room.”

“On my way,” Lilith promised. She turned to Sera, leaned in, and gave her cheek a quick goodbye kiss. “Later, disaster maiden.” She snapped off a mock salute and left to work, and Sera just sort of…stared.

It was the first time Lilith kissed her in public. She felt her cheeks flush warm. It shouldn’t have mattered, probably, but it felt like it did.

Lilith always made her feel like things mattered.

* * *

 

**v.** _composing hallelujah._

It was the first time they were together.

_Together_ together.

Sera planned to pull out all the stops. She knew every trick in the book, every time-honored, lady-tested technique, and once she was done Lavellan was gonna be seeing stars, and there’d be no room left in her head for thoughts of dumb boys she never should have been with. Sera wanted to blow her mind. Wanted to leave her so wowed she’d be telling tales about it in the tavern the next morning and the morning after that. But…then Lilith kissed her, soft and sweet and smiling, and Sera’s plans wilted and washed away like paper in water.

Sera’s hands fumbled but her heart finally stopped racing. It was better than stars and tavern tales. It was _together_.  Soft, and sweet, and together.

Sera had never felt that together.

She didn’t tell anyone about it the next morning. She didn’t want to. She wanted to hold it as near to her heart as Lilith held her, and she didn’t want to share that with anyone. Sparks and stars were grand, but…

But this mattered.

And you don't talk piss about things that matter.

* * *

 

**vi.** _bathing on the roof._

Sera didn’t want to sleep in Lilith’s room. That cavernous chamber at the top of too many stairs. Not because of Solas, just…

Alright, well. Maybe a little because of that.

That was fine, though. Lilith liked Sera’s room. They’d sit on the roof outside her window and talk about stuff that didn’t matter while the sun sunk low. Lilith would rearrange all the furniture and then switch it back around again, never _quite_ happy, and Sera would hang trinkets and stolen trophies from the ceiling beams that made the light shine new colors when it hit them just right. They’d squeeze together atop the narrow bench beneath the window and ramble on in sleepy voices while the sun shone warm through the glass—would pile pillows and blankets up into a soft nest of colors that made Sera think of summer markets and the covered backs of caravans.

Sometimes Sera would curl up against her, buried under a mountain of blankets while the sky outside glittered with stars, and wonder if this was what it felt like for the Dalish. If tents and aravels felt this snug and warm. If it was nice to pick up home and wander, together. She wondered if this was what it felt like to have people.

* * *

 

**vii.** _beauty and the moonlight._

They were tangled up in bed late morning when Sera traced her fingertip over the branching lines of her vallaslin. “Why’ve you got these, anyway?”

Lilith scrunched up her nose when Sera’s fingers traveled to the inked lines beneath her eyes. “So pretty girls will touch my face, obviously.”

“Pfft.” Her touch lingered. “You don’t even believe in elfy god-whatevers.”

“Nope.”

“But doesn’t that…isn’t that what they’re for?” She was embarrassed she couldn’t say that for sure. She’d never really met other Dalish elves before. She’d never thought one would want to meet her. “I mean, it _is_ an elfy thing, right?”

“It is,” she said. “But they’re mine. They mean what I need them to mean.”

“So why those then? Not that I’m complaining. You look pretty in red. Just, you know. Wondering ‘bout it.”

Lilith twined their fingers together and nestled closer with a wry, sleepy smile. She murmured words in her ear like sharing a grand secret. Things about history, and family, and tradition; of time, transformation, change. She whispered about rebellion and solidarity. Of pride in defiance. Power in reclamation. Of freedom.

“The world’s going to tell you all kinds of things about yourself,” she said. “About what you are, and what you should be. But it can’t make you listen.”

Sera asked why she chose Mythal’s—they were Mythal’s right? She knew that much, right?—but Lilith said she didn’t. She said they were hers. They were never anyone’s but hers.

“That’s the thing about a symbol,” she whispered. “No one can own it. No one can control it. No one can stop you from taking it.”

“If there was a Mythal, like a _person,_ not…whoever- _whatever_ we saw. Not demons or Morrigan’s mum or some shit, but like…a real lady. If she was real and she came ‘round, do you think she’d be miffed if she knew? Do you think she’d feel insulted or something?”

Lilith laughed. It sounded like poetry. “Worse. I think she’d feel irrelevant.”

* * *

 

**viii.** _broke your throne._

It was their first fight.

They argued sometimes, yeah. Lilith would start talking about magic and people and _justice_ and Sera would get irritated and frustrated and they’d end up smack in the middle of some dumb little spat about word-bullshit. Most of the time they were stupid, and most of the time they both gave up midway through and got a drink. Those were just arguments, though. They disagreed but they weren’t _mad._ Nobody got hurt because of it. Nobody _felt_ hurt.

It went different this time. Lilith said something about abolishing the Circle, and Sera said something about blood magic, and Lilith went and said some stupid thing about numbers and probability and history. She was right, in the end. What she said made sense, and Sera understood why the way she thought could be wrong. And that was the point of this, wasn’t it? To make each other better?

Sera didn’t say it, though. Wouldn’t. Lilith was right but Sera still screamed the contrary, still yelled and swore that she was _wrong,_ because _reasons._ She didn’t even know why. It wasn’t like she cared all that much about it.

That wasn’t what started the fight. Sera kind of wished it had been. That would have been less embarrassing. But Lilith was just…she was too _calm._ She got all heated and pronounced her words sharper, words biting out clearer, but she didn’t _yell._ Didn’t make stupid eye-rolly faces and start tossing in curses and insults.

Not like Sera always did.

Things were good— _they_ were good—but that was the problem. Sera knew how things like this went. She was _fun,_ and _crazy,_ and _new,_ and she’d be this wild, inspiring thing for a month and then… Not. Then there’d be too much of her. And she’d be _immature,_ and _unreasonable,_ and her whole “wildcard” game would get old, and then she wouldn’t inspire anything anymore.

Lilith should have figured that out by now, but she hadn’t, and Sera hated it.

Sera cut her off midway through. “Shut up,” she demanded. “Just shut up! Stop acting like…like… _Ugh._ Why do you even like me?”

Lilith blinked. Once. Twice. “…I’m sorry?”

“You!” She waved her hands, a frantic, furious motion. “I just…I fucking _do_ this! I yell, and say _stupid_ shit, and I don’t know how to put words right so they make _sense,_ and nothing I do ever makes any frigging _sense._ ” She swiped furiously at her eyes, tears already halfway to her chin. “And I frigging _cry._ ”

“And?”

“And that’s not you! You’re not those things! You’re all…ugh, I don’t know. But you’re not _me._ ”

“Good,” she said. “I don’t want another me.”

“No! But…! I’m an _idiot!_ A frigging _mad_ idiot who can’t even _talk_ right.”

“You’re not an idiot,” she huffed, “and you’re not _crazy_. So let’s clear that up right now. Besides, that’s why I love you. Because you’re _you_. All the little things, the crying and jumbled words and mustard stains on shirts—they make you you. And no one else could be you. There is _no one_ like you.”

“No, but…” That wasn’t right; that couldn’t be right. Things didn’t work like that. Sera didn’t work like that. “You have this big, important Inquisition, out saving the world, and I’m just…pissing around dumping buckets on people and stealing _cakes_ and shit. I don’t even _help._ Not really. Not-”

_Not like he did for you._

She sucked back a wet sniffle and felt even worse. “I just do little things, yeah? It’s not like you. It doesn’t matter.”

For a long time Lilith just stared. Sera used to hate that about her—how she could stare without looking dumb, could dominate a conversation with silence that felt like a sword. It was sharp and eerie and Sera used to hate it because it used to make her feel small.

It felt…different, though.

“You’re temperamental,” Lilith finally decided. “You’re fickle. And you _don’t_ communicate well. Sometimes you don’t communicate at all. But you’re _passionate!_ You care a lot about a lot of things, and sometimes it’s so much you’re not sure how to handle all of it. You know what it’s like to feel small, and you figured out how to make sure small people could feel big, could _do_ something big. Little things from little people who together make something that matters. And that’s what you are to me, you know? A bunch of little things that matter together. All the little bumps and dents make you _you._ You wouldn’t be _Sera_ without them. And I _love_ Sera.”

She sniffled. “Why?”

“Because,” she said. “I like you. I like being with you. I like who I am when we’re together.” She smiled, a familiar, crooked grin. “I mean, we have a shit ton of fun, don’t we?”

“Fun.” A giggle bubbled up through a sob. “Obviously, yeah?”

For the first time it felt like that mattered.

* * *

 

**ix.** _not a victory march._

It wasn’t her fault.

Sera knew it wasn’t her fault.

Sometimes Inky would get kind of…quiet, though. And she wouldn’t stay with her, or talk to her, or do really _anything._ Or…she still did _important_ things, she guessed, but those were Inquisitor things. It was different. This was different.

Sera wasn’t _stupid;_ she knew Lilith got…far, sometimes. It’s not like she met her yesterday. Most of the time she was _Lilith_ but then sometimes she just sort of checked out. She’d go quiet, and conversations would cut short, and she’d be tired. Really tired. Sera knew that. But…she didn’t know; it just felt different than she thought from this close. Farther.

She wondered if Lilith ever felt this far to _him._

Sometimes nights felt tense and anxious, and it felt like waiting for a hurricane to hit. They both just sort of shuttered up and went dark. And waited it out.

Days were…disconnected. Sometimes Sera kind of felt like she was back in the city, running rooftops. Doing nothing, loudly, alone. And nothing really mattered, and Sera didn’t matter, and she didn’t have to think about all the things she could never change. All the ways she was useless.

Lilith didn’t look at her. Not really. Or when she did look, it wasn’t really Lilith. It was… She didn’t know.

They fought about it once. Sera wished they hadn’t.

“You’re not the only one who’s ever been _sad,_ ” she said, or sobbed, or maybe screamed. Sera had a hard time remembering a lot of things about that argument. “You do _you,_ and I get that, I _know_ that! But you can’t just…leave! Or turn off, or _freeze,_ or whatever this is.” Sera remembered she cried, and she hated it. Sera wasn’t supposed to be the one crying. “I don’t want to be alone, either.”

Lilith apologized, and that felt wrong too. Sera didn’t know what she wanted but it wasn’t for Lilith to be sorry. She never wanted to make her _sad._ She didn’t think.

Sera was so, stupid sorry.

* * *

 

**x.** _a cold and broken hallelujah._

“It’s not about that,” Blackwall told her once. Sera was ripping apart handfuls of straw up in the stables loft, definitely _not_ crying after a stupid fight over another stupid, empty night.

“It’s not about _you,_ ” he said. “You’re too smart not to know that.”

“But I _like_ her,” she tried to argue through a hiccup. “I frigging love her. _Love._ Like some stupid _idiot,_ and I can’t even make anything better. I don’t even _help._ What’s even the point of some stupid, _useless_ word when it doesn’t even _help_ anything?”

“Sera. Come on. How long has it been?”

“That was _different._ We were friends. Now we’re not, and so it’s…I mean that’s kind of my job now, yeah? To make her _not_ hurt. So does it even count if I can’t do anything? What’s even the point of me then?”

“We’ve talked about this.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.”

“ _Sera.”_

“But…fuck. Fucking shit arse piss-frigging _balls_. I want to _help!_ ”

“You do.”

“Piss off, I do! We can’t even talk when it’s like this. _Solas_ talked to her. I know he talked to her.” She hurried to wipe her nose before a new wave of snot could make her look even uglier. “I hear you two talking, you know. Lilith and you. I’m not _stupid._ I see you fall back. Every time we go out on some stupid _mission_ one of you will always fall back. She won’t talk to me but apparently she’ll chat it up with frigging _you._ ”

Blackwall took a seat beside her. “You ever meet other city elves? And before you start, don’t. I _know_ you get the point of the question.”

“So _what?_ ”

“So if you ran into one down in the market one day, you might be able to pick them out?”

“No. I don’t know. Maybe. So?”

“Nothing. Not saying it means anything. It’s just something you might recognize. And maybe that lends a unique perspective.”

“You suddenly an elf now? Spend a lot of time riding magic deer through a forest, do you?”

“Is the only thing you have in common with city elves the place you were _born?_ ”

“ _Yeah,_ or maybe, I don’t know, but…so what? What makes you so fuck-off _special?_ What do you have in common with her that I don’t have better?”

“It’s not about better. We’ve just both seen battle. There is no _better;_ it just is.”

“She’s not some stupid soldier! She’s never been that! So what the _fuck_ would she have more in common with _you?_ ”

“Warzones aren’t the only places for a battle.”

“ _Shut up._ Just shut up; you don’t know anything! She would tell me if something was important! We’re _good!_ Together we’re-!”

Sera cried, and hated, and felt even worse when she smeared her nose against her shirtsleeve. Lilith wouldn’t have done that.

Blackwall stared down at the crackling fire in silence before gruffly clearing his throat. “What’s the worst thing you and Lavellan have in common? Don’t _sa_ y it, just think it. Maker, don’t start talking about it.”

Sera had already thought of it. She didn’t even mean to.

Neither started off wanted. Neither were the people everyone thought they ought to be. Neither were… _right._ Not like they were supposed to be. Not like people said they should be. Stupid, wrong people saying stupid, wrong things.

“Fine. What about it?”

“Nothing. It just…feels different when you see it in another person. Doesn’t it?”

“So what, you both sad then?”

“It’s not about sad.”

“You both _broke_ then?” She regretted it as soon as she said it. Sera never thought before she spoke. It was so _stupid._ “…didn’t mean that. Sorry. I’m just…it sucks, you know? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s alright. Didn’t think you did.”

“But I just… I mean… She’s not even _old,_ so you can’t pull the ‘you’ll understand in time’ shite. There’s _something_ and I know you talk about it and I deserve to know because how am I supposed to know if I fuck it up? I _like_ her, I don’t want to fuck it up!” She paused before she could wipe at her nose again. “You think we’re good together, right? Not…not in a joke-way, in a real way. I mean you ended up not even being the same _person,_ or whatever, but we’re alright. You and me. We still like each other. And _Lilith_ does, and I do, and… You’d say something, right? Are we good?”

“Do you love her?”

“ _Yes,_ obviously. Duh. But that’s the _problem._ I love her and she loves _me_ and she shouldn’t. She’s making a _mistake._ And one day she’s going to know it and this’ll all have been some stupid, awful _mistake_ and it’ll have been my fault. And I just…” She buried her face behind her knees, arms pulled tight. “I don’t want her to hate me when it’s over. I’d rather we never even started and have her _like_ me than do all this and have her hate me after.”

“Bollocks,” he said. “If you love the girl then just _love_ her. Maker damn the rest.”

And that…sort of made her laugh, which was better. A little.

“I do love her. I do.”

“Good,” he affirmed. “That’s the end of that, then. Now what do you say we get a drink?”

* * *

 

**xi.** _what’s real._

“Wish I had your nose,” Sera once said. She pushed on the high bridge of her own nose as if she could somehow reshape it.

Lilith was in the middle of moving a bookcase. She didn’t like how it looked against the wall anymore. “Sera, if they ever perfect some kind of face-swapping spell, I will gladly trade you.”

“Bleh, no. Can’t mine just be gone? _Forever?_ I said I liked your face; why would I go and fuck it up?” Her hand drifted back to her nose, fingertips prodding. “You ever wear a really big hat to cover up your ears and just, like…see how many people think you’re human?”

“Why would I do that?”

“You know, for fun. Just for a laugh. See how stupid people are, yeah? I bet you could. Not in-” Wait, that sounded not right. “I don’t mean a bad way. It’s a really good way.” She scrunched up her nose with a frown. “I wish I had your nose. You could trick a whole lot of people.”

She finally stopped fussing with the bookcase. “I’m not human,” she stated matter-of-factly. “I’m an elf. I don’t _want_ anyone to think different.”

“Oh, don’t get your knickers in a knot—it doesn’t actually _matter._ I mean what’s so important about being an elf? I’ve got nothing in common with them anyway, ‘sides pointy ears. So. I wouldn’t give two shits if someone thought I wasn’t. People would prolly be better. Nicer and not as…look-y, and shite. I dunno. It’d just be funny to try, is all. A big ugly hat. Just see what happens.”

“It’s not about elves, it’s the principle of the matter.”

“Oh, come on. This about to turn into a big pride-party?”

“It’s not pride. It’s defiance.” She squared her shoulders, hands on her hips, and struck her most dramatic, regal pose. “I’m an elf,” she grandly recited, “and you all have to _deal with_ it.”

“ _Hah._ You tell ‘em, your majesty.”

Lilith returned to shoving the bookcase closer with a snort of laughter. “And if they don’t like it they can eat my tattooed Dalish ass.”

Sera laughed for an hour straight.

She’d have to remember that one.

* * *

 

**xii.** _remember when._

“Alright.” Lavellan planted herself firm, hands on her knees. “Teach me how to do a backflip.”

Lilith had asked Sera to teach her the night they met. Back in that courtyard in Val Royeaux. She’d welcomed Sera to the Inquisition with a deceptively strong handshake, and immediately followed it with, “Can you teach me how to do a backflip?”

Sera always said she would, but she never really did. It was kind of stupid, but… If Lilith could do that, too, then she’d need Sera around that much less. Not that it mattered. Or… Whatever. Sera wasn’t any kind of teacher anyway.

“Want to trade?” Lilith said. “I’ll teach you how to flip someone over your shoulder if you teach me how to do a backflip.”

And that was…a pretty fair trade, Sera figured.

She did teach her, one dusty afternoon in the garden. Or tried anyway. Lilith never did get the hang of it, but she still taught Sera how to flip someone—specifically Cullen. He was the only one they could convince to willingly volunteer. Er. Sort of willingly. Sera couldn’t straight haul him up n’ over her shoulder like Lilith could—he was frigging _heavy_ —but she did learn how to roll with her hip and knock him flat over.

Inky was right _ecstatic_. Cullen was mostly just grumpy. (Although he still grumbled a bitter _“Congratulations”_ while the two jumped around in gleeful celebration.) It was fun. And really frigging _useful_.

Sera didn’t know she could do that.

* * *

 

**xiii.** _the holy dark._

She talked about marriage.

She was staring up at Sera, head resting on her lap. “Do we both wear a veil?” she asked. “Ooh, I’d want a red dress. One of those stupidly long ones. We’d need the whole aisle just to fit the train.”

Sera tried to hold back a manic sort of grin, but couldn’t. She smiled so hard her cheeks hurt. “Look at you, all fancy. We gonna get a big bouquet of roses and ride off into the sunset on, like…a carriage drawn by _swans_ or something?”

“I was hoping we could just hop on a nuggalope and gallop off, but if swans are more your thing then power to you.” She pushed herself up and kissed her, eyes slipping shut with a happy hum. “You get to be the one to catch them, though.”

* * *

 

**xiv.** _every breath we drew._

It was raining. They huddled together beneath a sagging tent of quilts in the dim candlelight of Sera’s room, and split a cake stolen from the kitchen.

They talked about family. What they had, and didn’t have, and maybe someday wanted. Sera stumbled over details of memories she hadn’t spoken aloud before. Needling little things that stuck in time and made her chest get all tight.

Lilith said Emmald was wrong. She said Sera wasn’t.

Sera hadn’t felt not-wrong in a long time.

Inky started talking about her own parents, from before her clan, before she called herself Lavellan, but eventually she could only cry. It started quiet and grew into sobs that made her shoulders shake. Sera wrapped her arms around her while she hid her face in her hands and murmured silly tales—jokes and rhymes and stupid little stories that weren’t true—and in the flickering shadows imagined up their own kind of home. Their own family.

One that mattered, this time.

* * *

 

**xv.** _a god above._

And then one day a bloodied scout limped into Skyhold with a terrible slash of a grimace. Alone.

Sera still remembered what she was doing the moment he arrived. She was sticking ugly feathers into some even uglier hat, because it was going to be funny, and when Inky got back from Orlais Sera was going to wear it when she greeted her at the gates, and she was going to laugh. It was just some little rescue mission in the Emerald Graves. She’d be back within the week. Sera was waiting.

_It was an ambush,_ he said.

_We were overrun._

_We were outnumbered._

_She tried to save us._

Sera wouldn’t stop shaking her head.

_I’m sorry,_ he said.

_She fought until the last._

_She was brave._

_She never surrendered._

_She was outnumbered._

“Lilith doesn’t die,” she said. “Lilith can’t die.”

She couldn’t do that. She wouldn’t leave her alone like that. She wouldn’t-

_I’m sorry,_ he said.

_The Herald has fallen._

He presented the jagged tip of a broken sword. Her sword.

_It was all I could find,_ he said.

_It was all that was left._

_I’m sorry._

Sera snatched it from his hands and tossed it to the dirt. “That’s not her,” she insisted, and it felt like a scream. “That isn’t her. That can’t be it.”

There had to be more of her than _that._

Leliana brought up plans for a memorial service and Sera cursed and screamed and threw things against the wall until they shattered. “You can’t do that,” she cried. “You can’t bury someone who’s not dead yet. You can’t _bury_ her.”

They had a funeral with no body. Sera didn’t attend.

* * *

 

**xvi.** _all I ever learned._

She sought out Cole with wringing hands and puffy eyes. Swiped at a runny nose with hands that still shook. “You’re a spirit, right? You’d know? You could know if she was…you’d…you’d know if she was gone, right?”

Cole looked so sad she wanted to scream. “I’m not a spirit,” he said. “It doesn’t work like that anymore.”

“Bullshit it doesn’t! You’re always doing spooky shite; go look for her! Go fuck off to the Fade and find her! Fucking… _feel_ her or something!”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t.”

* * *

 

**xvii.** _how to shoot._

Cullen found her curled in on herself on the battlements, knees hugged tight to her chest.

“She’s not gone,” she said, but the sound came cracked from her throat. “She can’t _leave._ ”

He lowered himself down next to her, but said nothing. Just put an arm around her shoulder and released a shaky exhale.

They cried in silence.

* * *

 

**xviii.** _a cry you can hear at night._

She thought to leave. Maybe go back to Val Royeaux. She thought to grab what she could carry and just run, off into the night, and never look back. She thought to disappear. She wished she could just disappear.

She burned the ugly hat with the ugly feathers. It made her cry harder than she’d ever cried before. She wished she could disappear that, too.

* * *

 

**xix.** _somebody who’s seen the light._

Sera thought it was a nightmare. A demon. Something awful and evil and _taunting_. It wasn’t real. It was a trick. It had to be a trick.

She awoke from a fitful sleep to the ringing shouts of guards. The scouts spotted something coming through the pass—a huddled bump of a person, a black dot in the snow.

They sent a guard out to retrieve them, and what they dragged back through the gate made them murmur and gasp. Sera shouldered in behind a group of onlookers, head craned to see. The bump of a person leaned heavy on the broken end of a sword. They were more blood than human. A cracked, caked heap of dried blood and metal held together by ragged strips of fabric and leather.

Sera didn’t recognize her face until she saw the vallaslin.

_Can’t get rid of me that easily,_ Lilith wheezed, and when she grinned Sera saw lines of red between her teeth.

_I survived an ancient magister darkspawn. They’ll have to try harder than that._

A trick

A trick

A trick

She cradled her left arm, swaddled up and wrapped tight in a torn jacket. She bled through a makeshift bandage wrapped ‘round her chest.

_I don’t go down as easy as that._

Sera broke down. Hit the dirt hard on her knees and crumpled in on herself like a child. She cried. Ugly, heaving sobs that left her unable to breathe.

She came back. This wasn’t real.

She came back.

Inky tried to lower herself down and collapsed when her weight fell on her broken knee. She reached to hold Sera’s face with hands still streaked in blood.

_It’s alright,_ she said.

_I’m alright. We’re alright._

_I’m here._

Sera couldn’t do anything but cry. She shoved away with a choked sob and commanded, “ _Never again._ Never again, you hear me? I can’t- _I lost you._ I can’t lose you again. You promise me, yeah? _Promise you won’t do that_.”

Lilith didn’t answer, though. She just…stared. That awful sword-sharp look that made everything else seem quiet. She looked so faraway. “I can’t.”

She wasn’t supposed to say that. Sera’s mouth opened but there were no words to find. There was no poetry here.

“ _Promise me!_ ” she demanded.

“I’m sorry, I’m _sorry,_ Sera, I’m so sorry.” She looked so _hurt_ and Sera was ready for anger or bitterness or _blame_ and this wasn’t that. This felt worse. _Awful._ “I should have talked to you.”

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“I _love_ you,” Sera pleaded. “You can’t do this to me again.”

They were going to go back to the city, get a place to sleep that didn’t move and was more than just a room with a bed, somewhere with a stupid little square garden box out front. And they’d sit in their nice little house, with trinkets hanging from the ceiling beams, and look out their big fancy window at night and laugh at the stars. They’d travel somewhere new every week. Far places. _New_ places. And when they both got that itchy sort of hollow in their chests that sometimes made their throats tighten up and their words wither they would go back home and laugh some more at stars, and next week they’d try again. They were supposed to be good. Together.

“They made me bury you,” she said. “I had to- I can’t _do_ that again, I can’t play widow! It’s not fair, and I love you, and…I can’t do it, ok? I don’t want to- _I can’t bury my wife._ ”

Lilith looked so understanding, and that almost made it worse. “No. And you shouldn’t have to. That’s not fair.”

Sera didn’t want to talk about fair. Nothing was ever fair.

“I have to help,” Lilith pleaded. “You know I have to help.”

“So help _me!_ Stay!”

She looked at her with that sad, awful _hurt,_ and Sera wished she could stop crying.

_I can do such great things,_ Lilith pleaded. _I have to try._

_People deserve that much. I can help. I have to help. I can’t stop if there’s still people who need help._

Sera knew that, because she knew Lilith. She wouldn’t be her if she wasn’t chasing justice with a chipped greataxe. Sera loved that.

_It’s not fair,_ she went on. _I should have talked to you._

Sera knew the talk already, though. She hears it echoing in nightmares.

_You’re not going to stop,_ Sera said, _are you?_

_You’ll just keep fighting something until a bigger, badder thing finally kills you. And I’ll be too young to be a widow and you’ll be too young to be dead, and everything will be stupid and I don’t…_

Sera already knew. Lilith wouldn’t stop, because she couldn’t, because that was part of it. Part of her. The whole bizarre, manic deal, and that’s the person Sera loved. It’s what made her _her_. And no one was like her.

It made it kind of worse, somehow.

_I’m sorry,_ Lilith said.

_I’m so sorry._

And it ended. Just like that.

Everything that mattered just…

Ended.

* * *

 

**xx.** _hallelujah._

Nothing had changed. Or…everything changed, she guessed, but Inky hadn’t changed. The way they sat close with stolen wine and rattled on about things that didn’t matter didn’t change. She still cracked wry little smiles and called Sera _disaster maiden_ and _chaos princess._ She still told her she was clever and right and beautiful.

Sera loved her. That never changed. Sometimes she sort of wished it did.

The Exalted Council was going to change things. End things. They could say it wouldn’t, but nobs in places like this? All they _do_ is end things. Even Sera could tell that, and she was...

No, not stupid. Sera wasn’t stupid. Inky told her that, and Inky didn't lie about stuff that mattered.

Point was things would change, and end, and no one was going to help. Inky deserved help. She...deserved a lot of things. She deserved someone to be there for her. She deserved to be an “us.”

They sat in the tavern like nothing changed. Sera bought the drinks.

“Been thinking a lot,” Sera said. “See, I have these friends. And all of them were the wrong sort of whatever. Their place changed, or it never was. So together we made an ‘us.’ Everyone needs an ‘us.’ And when the world is done saying no and calls you the wrong sort of whatever, maybe we can be that ‘us’ for you?” She rubbed at her arm and tried, desperately, to stop looking away. “I mean…I know we couldn’t be ‘us,’ but we were still good, right? We could still be an ‘us,’ even if it’s not, you know… _us_ us. So… What do you think, Inquisitor? Want to run some rooftops as a Jenny?”

Lilith laughed, and it sounded like poetry. She clasped Sera’s hand with a grin that felt like home. “Well, all I have to say is…call me _'Red Frigging Jenny.'_ "

Sera liked the sound of that.


End file.
